“It’s infernally late,” he added, “and I’ve been a beast to keep you up. It was awfully nice of you.”
She rose from the lounge and walked with him to the door.
“Good night,” he said cheerily; but she retained his hand, added her other to it, and put up her face.
“Look here,” he said, smilingly, “I can’t do that, Marya.”
“Why can’t you?”
Her soft breath was on his face; the mouth too near––too near–––
“No, I can’t!” he said curtly, but his voice trembled a little.
“Why?” she whispered.
“Because––there’s Vanya. No, I won’t do it!”
“Is that the reason?”